Experiments of a Lyoko Warrior
by toastedCroissants
Summary: A collection of experimental short stories that I try to have fun with! Current prompt: Under Lies the Secret Place- AU 'Her piercing gaze penetrated his defenses; he was frozen to the core. Looking at her in his restraining arms, the fact that he was enthralled by her and she still hated him for being her enemy in this fight still didn't sink in.' U/Y
1. Memories of the Cherry Blossom

**Hey guys, toastedCroissants here! This is my first attempt at a fluffly one-shot, and I really hope you like it. (: So sit back, relax, and enjoy!**

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_Cherry Blossoms Adrift_

_Pink petals passing_  
_Scents above so high_  
_Painted porcelain perfection_  
_Blossoms caress the sky_

_Swaying silent shroud_  
_Suitors strolling by_  
_Pink petals passing_  
_Lover's gentle sigh_

_-Mary Fumento (1999)_

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#1: Memories of the Cherry Blossom

The cherry blossoms were always a vivid, heartwarming memory that Yumi never failed to remember. The thin branches that held the beautiful buds which would soon bloom into gems of pinks, whites, and purples in various hues always took her breath away.

They would loom beautifully over the bridge she would frequently visit during that time of year, the crystalline river below all of it painting a clear reflection that was almost as gorgeous as the original. The familiar bridge was a deep brown, almost a plum color, and it's ends were supported by gray, rounded stones that were compacted on top of each other, leading to a tiny cottage. That was where the quintet chose to spend their winter break together, creating as many memories they could to make up for the near three years they lost to fight against the evil A.I, whom tried vigorously to annihilate them and the human race.

The lovely, delicate blooms symbolized more than beauty to Yumi. They symbolized remembrance, the life she had before she became an undercover hero set out to save the world.

Snow just started to fall during this lovely winter, creating a thin blanket of frost that added a little charm to everything.

Early one morning, Yumi quietly slipped out of bed and dressed for the cold weather. It was her turn to fill the fireplace with wood today.

Yumi opened the front door with a soft creak, and she was immediately greeted with bursts of pink, the ice cold darts eating at her face failing to rip her attention away. Her dark orbs sparkled with pleasure as the sun slowly rose, and her body filled with pure euphoria.

Almost repulsively, Yumi shuffled towards the bridge and did a few twirls, feeling the thirteen-year-old she once was rise up inside her almost as quickly as the rising sun. She closed her eyes and let the snowflakes lightly fall onto her face, the familiarity consuming her and blocking out the rest of the world.

Today, she suddenly felt great, elated.

Once she settled down, Yumi walked towards the edge, looking over to the river that flowed beneath her. Once word escaped her mouth, not being able to be held back any longer.

"_Beautiful,_" was all she could whisper.

Her breath mingled with the cold, frosty air, creating light wisps of smoke that gave sign to the freezing temperature. Yumi shivered as a breeze suddenly approached, as if a sign to hurry, and she pulled the edges of her coat closer to her tall, lanky frame.

The blooms fell from their perches at a constant rate, mimicking the snowflakes.

Strangely, Yumi felt loneliness begin to consume her, and placing her mittened hands into her coat pockets, she started her slow shuffle into the woods.

The bridge let out faint creaks with every step Yumi took, almost overtaken by the loudness of rushing water below. Even being by herself, the place was never completely silent.

Nature had its own music.

Again, Yumi paused halfway across the bridge just to close her eyes and relax, building a field of tranquility around her. Feeling so calm was almost foreign after fighting X.A.N.A.

It was...refreshing.

Footsteps given away by creakings of the wood told Yumi she wasn't alone, and almost instantly, the loneliness dissipated. A coat was haphazardly wrapped around her shoulders, instantly remedying her cold, and Yumi shifted it around a bit so it would fit better.

Yumi felt the color rise in her cheeks, pleasurably warming her frosty face. A grin spread across her slightly blue lips, and due to the cold, never really reached her eyes. She looked up to face Ulrich, who was content with standing near her while staying silent, fully knowing how these trees meant to Yumi, the sentimental value they possessed.

To him, the cherry blossoms were no comparison to the resplendence his dark-haired beauty encompassed.

Suddenly, Ulrich seemed to understand the feelings Yumi felt whenever she laid eyes on these alluring flowers. The eye-popping colors, the delicate buds that sprinkled the air- she described them perfectly during the talks they had in France. They were an unforgettable sight of her home country, and it would only make sense that it filled the Japanese geisha with nostalgia.

The wind seemed to strengthen, guiding the snowflakes to the east. They sprinkled the top of her hat like a crystal tiara, but Yumi didn't seem to notice.

Ulrich, having felt something, looked down and found Yumi's head filling the crook of his neck. Her eyes were closed peacefully like she was asleep, like she was just listening to the sounds that enveloped them. To Ulrich, her peaceful face was captivating to look at.

Yumi was just happy that she was able to share this moment with someone like him, someone who _understood_ her. Her first friend. Her _best_ friend.

They just stood like that in silence for a few minutes, until Yumi let out a big sneeze. That pulled her back to reality: the firewood is still needing tending with.

"Come here." Ulrich pulled her close, rubbing his hands up and down her shoulders. "You seem cold."

Ulrich's warm breath produced white tendrils of smoke, dancing across his face while warming the back of Yumi's head. The Japanese geisha squirmed a bit and said, "But the firewood-"

"You're _freezing_, Yumi," Ulrich replied, squeezing even tighter. "I want you to just relax and enjoy the view. It's all taken care of."

Yumi shivered, not from the cold, but with pleasure as Ulrich's lips rubbed against the tip of her ear. She then sighed heavily and muttered, "_Fine." _

Relaxing her muscles, she obligately nestled into Ulrich, savoring his warmth. She shivered more violently than before, and Ulrich continued rubbing his hands against her arms, desperately trying to warm her.

"Are you okay?" Ulrich whispered.

Yumi turned around, and kissed him on the cheek. "Yes, thank you."

Ulrich felt the warmth rise in his cheeks, overwhelming the cold that once overtook him. He was rather disappointed, because it was the objective to warm her, not him.

Little did he know that Yumi's face was heating up too.

That sparked an idea.

Taking her hands, the brunette pivoted around to face the captivating woman in front of him. He noticed that Yumi's nose was red, and her cheeks flushed from the cold. Then slowly and gently, he pressed his lips to hers, making her eyes widen with surprise and her mind to fill with stupor.

Yumi parted her lips, and kissed back gently. His lips were surprisingly warm, and his breath smelt of mint. She pulled him close, wanting to steal all of his fervor, not caring about the wind anymore. Because right next to him, she felt a new kind of warmth.

The feeling of a memory, another remembering.

That right under the fall of the cherry blossoms, she had her first kiss with the man she always loved.

When they parted, Ulrich whispered into her ear, nearly driving her crazy.

"Are you warm now?" he asked.

Her cheeks flushed, she answered, "Yes, very."

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**Author's note: I know that this wasn't really my best, because this is my first, but I'd really like to know what you think! Just to let you know, this is just like my practice while I take a break from 'Mission Interference' (I'm still working on it, don't worry!). This collection will just be full of short stories of random such that I think up of, and it'll be great practice too. A lot of this is experimental, and I will be exploring with different genres, so.. expect them to be a little.. different from what I usually write. (:**

**Reviews are highly appreciated! I love you all, fellow Lyoko warriors! :)**

**-toastedCroissants, a Lyoko Warrior**


	2. Sorry

**Hey guys! This is my first hurt-ish story, and I hope you like it! I'd really like to know how I'm doing in your point of view! :)**

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_When I was Your Man_

_Same bed, but it feels just a little bit bigger now._

_Our song on the radio, but it don't sound the same._

_When our friends talk about you all that it does is just tear me down,_

_'Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name._

_And it all just sound like, 'oooh oooh oooh oooh ooohh.'_

_Hmmm too young, too dumb to realize:_

_That I should have bought you flowers, and held your hand._

_Should have gave you all my hours, when I had the chance._

_Take you to every party cause all you wanted to do was dance._

_Now my baby is dancing, but she's dancing with another man._

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#2: Sorry

A swirl formed in the pool of red as Jeremie twisted the stem of the martini glass across his fingers. He imagined it as the vortex of his deepest, most pensive, most _inner_ thoughts- thoughts of major heartbreak, double-crossed betrayal, and full resentment. They would all come together and create something with a deep, depressing center -a whirlpool- and would cause destruction around him and his world to fall apart.

He knew it was best to let go, but he couldn't. The feelings would just grow stronger and eat him alive, consuming him until he couldn't breathe.

In front of him was a picture he detested, _abhorred_. Odd's arms were wrapped around _his _girl's waist, as she would hold the large knife that would cut through the beautiful, five tiered wedding cake, complete with pink pearls and piped buttercream roses. Ulrich, the best man of the wedding, stood behind his eccentric friend, his right hand resting on his left shoulder blade, patting him as to say, _"Great job,"_ while Yumi, the maid of honor, stood to the side while holding the bouquet of flowers, cheering the pinkette on.

It would only make sense. The cake was monstrous compared to the petite, fragile bride.

What stood out the most to Jeremie was her _smile_. That beautiful, radiant smile that would light up any room instantly, the smile that she used to give _him_. It would lift her sharp, elfish features beautifully, putting every other girl to shame.

_What happened?_

He knew just what happened. Due to his misunderstood fondness towards computer-programming, he couldn't make time for Aelita and buy her flowers or take her out, like Odd could. She moved on like any other strong woman.

Maybe he should, too.

Large roars of applause erupted as the first slice was cut from the bottom of the cake, mercilessly yanking Jeremie out of the corners of his mind. Odd affectionately buried his face into the back of her head, probably kissing that bundle of rustled, pink hair that she never seemed to want to grow out. Aelita broke her smile to momentarily let out a sigh of relief as Odd littered kisses across her jawbone, assuring her that she did a great job.

Every single kiss burned an individual hole in Jeremie's heart. He could just feel the pain that lurked inside the chasms.

He downed his glass of wine.

Bottles of champagne were popped, slices of cake were passed out. Jeremie watched with pure repugnance from his empty table as the two newly-weds fed each other cake, loving expressions plastered across each of their faces. He almost vomited when Odd smeared frosting across the pinkett's lips -probably on purpose- and cleared it by pressing his lips gently on hers. Jeremie couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that came when he found that Aelita was _happy,_ happy without him, happy with _someone else._

Not wanting to know how much more he could withstand, he lost it. Unintentionally causing a scene, Jeremie dropped the newly-filled glass of wine, its contents splashing all over, sickly resembling blood. The crystalline glass broke apart into hazardous shards with a deafening _crack!_, sprinkling all over the marble floor.

And like that, he stormed out of the room.

Heads turned in Jeremie's direction, only seeing the evidence: broken glass and red wine. Silence quickly filled the room, the occasional whisper erupting from an information-craving relative.

Odd shrugged Aelita out of his arms, and followed Jeremie out the room. Guilt undoubtedly started to overtake him.

Odd ran down the steps leading to the sidewalk, empty now because of the late hours. The wind was just a gentle breeze, failing to disturb his spike the slightest bit, and the stars hovered overhead. He found Jeremie sitting on the bottom step, his face cupped into his hands, though he wasn't crying.

He sat himself next to the moping einstein, and asked, "You okay, man?"

_You betrayed me, stole her from me! _Instead of the answering the question, Jeremie replied, "I loved her, Odd."

"But you didn't show it," Odd answered in a comforting tone. Realizing what he just said, he shook his head, and restated, "Look, Aelita is amazing, and... I promise I'll do everything in my power to make her happy. I will buy her flowers, dance with her, kiss her, hug her, hold her.. I want to grow old with her. I will do _anything_ to bring that smile upon her face. I will take good care of her, Jere."

Jeremie withdrew his face from his hands, and looked up to face the pleading expression on Odd's face. He wore his tux with his purple bow tie, for the wedding was in pink and purple.

Maybe he should really just let go of her, because if he really _loved_ Aelita, he would want her to be happy. And if it was with Odd, then so be it.

He would have to admit that he _was_ treating her wrongly. Placing his hand on Odd's shoulder, he smiled warmly and replied, "I'll trust you, then. But if I see one _scratch_ on her, then-"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Don't get all wound up, einstein."

So the two men who just rekindled their relationship went back to attending the wedding. Aelita asked what the commotion was about, and Odd answered by telling her that it was all an accident, and that Jeremie left to find something to clean up the mess.

Once the festivities were done with, Odd carried Aelita in his arms, her flowing mermaid dress draped all over him. She squealed with delight as Odd bounced down the steps and towards the limo that would bring them to their new home, and Jeremie watched with new found happiness.

He would have to let her go, release her from his invisible grasp. She truly deserved someone else.

After Odd placed Aelita gently into the backseat, he looked back to face Jeremie with a slightly guilty face. It gave off one word, and one word only.

_Sorry._

Before Jeremie could reply, Odd was already in the car. The door shut, and the limo drove away, its license plate bearing the words, 'Just Married' getting smaller as the distance increased.

Then, it completely disappeared into the darkened horizon.

Jeremie then looked up into the stars, and thought to himself, _"There will always be another girl, and I promise to treat her right."_

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_Although it hurts I'll be the first to say that I was wrong_

_Oh, I know I'm probably much too late_

_To try and apologize for my mistakes  
_

_But I just want you to know_

_I hope he buys you flowers, I hope he holds your hand_

_Give you all his hours when he has the chance_

_Take you to every party cause I remember how much you loved to dance_

_Do all the things I should have done when I was your man.  
_

_-Bruno Mars (2013)_

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_**Author's Note: So how was that? Like it, hate it? This is my first ever writing that ever portrayed feelings of hurt and resentment, and I hope you like it very much. I tried my best! :) Reviews are highly appreciated! :)**_

**Just to tell you guys, and please don't tackle me for this, but I'm truthfully not an OddLita fan.. I wrote this because I wanted to try something new, and like I said before, I wanted to experiment. (: I don't necessarily hate OddLita, I think they're adorable too. So don't go all fighter on me, please! ;)**

**Thanks for reading! I love you all!**


	3. Longing

**Hey guys! I really hoped you like this one! I'm watching Code Lyoko during cartooning class tomorrow, and I'm so pumped! :D**

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_5:15_

_Got the luggage packed._

_Waiting by the front._

_Quarter after five, it's already one._

_I'll say it, one last time._

_Walking out the door 4:59_

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#3: Longing

"Jeremie!"

Aelita ran towards her beau, her arms outstretched. The handsome blonde gave a warming smile directed towards her, and only her, making her heart flutter with pure joy. The light made him look almost ethereal, exaggerating the contours of his body.

She missed him. So much.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pinkette attained him. Wrapping her arms around his slightly pudgy -though not fat at the least- figure, tears began to flow down her face, the sunlight bringing its iridescence out.

She was so happy to see him. After all he had been through.

All of a sudden, his figure blurred and distorted, but Aelita was completely oblivious. It was until she felt a sudden warm liquid start to seep through her clothes that she noticed something was wrong. It stained her pink clothes, and soaked into her skin.

Sudden low grunts brought Aelita back into attention. Opening her somewhat blurry eyes, Aelita looked around. Her heart dropped.

Large, majestic horses roamed the ground, their riders reloading their arrows and launching them simultaneously, killing tens of people at a time. A deathly bullet soared so fast in the air, the only sign of its existence was the man that fell from the impact. Militants in redcoats and dark blue uniforms dashed across the battleground, low and espionage-like, leaving their dead companions. Muskets occupied their hands, the militants holding them as if their life rested in its performance.

It did.

Still in her arms, a dying Jeremie hemorrhaged right in front of her. It was something _anyone_, especially his wife, should not need to see. The picture was gruesome, grotesque, and a feeling Aelita had no idea what to call filled inside her, threatening to congest her throat. It was blood that started to dry across her arms and bloomed like roses in the fabrics of her clothes. Half of Jeremie's face was soaked in blood, and a large chunk of his abdomen was blown right off, most likely from a cannonball. His dark blue uniform was singed.

"Jeremie!" she yelled, trying to shake him back into consciousness. "Jeremie, please wake up! Wake up!"

Her eyes widened, and her heart pounded out of her chest. The sun was almost too uplifting with the scene unfolding in front of her. She dropped her husband from her arms, and ran to find help.

She saw a man in the distance, the sun glaring in her eyes and making the male almost unseeable. The pinkette dashed towards him, though her legs didn't seem to listen. They moved in slow motion, as if she was dashing through gel.

"Oh, help!" she yelled desperately. "Sir, please help me!"

Sounds of launching bullets echoed in her ears, making her almost completely deaf. Screams of men broke her heart. More tears poured down her face. Just when she was about to exert herself, the man turned towards her, giving her hope.

But then a bullet blew him away, the blood spewing highly noticeable.

The sounds of battle engulfed her, and Aelita felt strangely lonely. Her chest inflamed from all the gunpowder in the air, obscuring her vision, and all she wore was a pink nightgown. Bullets seemed to blow right through her, and everyone but her died. She felt absolute loneliness, invisibility.

Knowing that there was nothing else to do, Aelita fell to her knees, and cried.

* * *

**11:33 p.m.**

Eyelids slowly fluttered open, showing Aelita the world she thought she left, though she never did. Her bubblegum hair clung to her face from all the perspiration, and her nightshirt adhered to her back.

The covers shifted as Aelita extended her left arm, feeling for the man that was mainly her life. Not surprisingly, cold shocked her fingertips, making her groan with disappointment.

The pinkette pulled herself up and patted her moist face. Another night of crying in her dreams, and then waking up to find him still _not there._

Sniffing, she slowly got up out of bed, a whole list of to do's already on her mind. She's already prepared for this day- all she had to do was carry it out. Her heart was still pounding from the nightmare, having just experienced Jeremie's death in such a vivid fashion. It was almost as if she was going to die from a heart attack.

The feeling of anxiety that took her always stuck to the back of her mind during the day, but showed its true potential while asleep. She knew there was a _chance_ that Jeremie could just die this instant in the war against British; news told her that the redcoats had the upper hand. These worries would haunt her in her dreams, showing the worst ways possible pertaining to Jeremie's fate in the war, and it would kill her waking up and still overtaken in worry.

The pinkette got to her knees and scanned the bottom of her bed for that particular handwoven bag she made with cornhusks. Opening it, she is happy to still find it filled with five sets of clothes, toiletries, and a pouch filled with shillings.

She set it right next to the front door.

Walking back to her bedroom, she opened her armoire and withdrew her outfit: a petticoat, wire hooping, a kerchief, an overskirt, an apron, and the bodice. She placed them upon her bed, and then lit a candle of rolled beeswax, taking in its lovely, sweet scent.

Aelita spent the next few minutes lighting up candles repeatedly, two in each room. It lit up the house, and every once in a while, Aelita would glance up at the towering grandfather clock.

**12:07 a.m.**

The drawing room was the last room to be lit up by a candle. It was all part of the plan. Sliding the cabinet open, Aelita took out a roll of parchment, a quill, and a container of black ink. She lit up another candle of beeswax, setting it next to the writing supplies, and adjusting her skirt, sat herself down on the uncomfortable wooden chair.

She spent nearly an hour writing the letter, the need to wipe her tears away constantly interrupting her. It would blot the ink, making her beautiful, loopy writing take an almost illegible font. The emotions she poured out in this painstaking process -the love, the pain- were almost purely reflected by the writing on the parchment.

Having finally finished, the pinkette let out a sigh of relief. Picking up the feathered paper, she proofread the tear-stained writing.

_To my dearest Jeremie,_

_It is to my knowing that you will be coming back to me today, though it is unbeknownst to me if my heart could take any more. I sleep in my chambers every night, my mind flooded with visions of you. I long for you. Though every time I wake up, I never find you next to me. 'Tis the way you want me to live? We are apt to shut our eyes against the painful truth, but 'tis evident that 'twill never wane. Everyday, I am overwhelmed with the anxiety of your incoming fate; will you live through this day? Or will the redcoats snatch your life away in their merciless claws? I never want to meet the day where the latter will occur. Though when you come back to me every season, 'tis like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. But then you depart again, tearing part of my heart away with you._

_It is both to our knowing that I love you, endless like the golden wheat fields that I have overheard mentioned in some chatter amongst several fellow soldier wives. But __I just can't bear to see you again, for you will always leave so soon. It breaks my heart to do this, but.. I'm leaving you. Like mentioned before, I never want to see you again._

_-Aelita_

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**1:16 a.m.**

Aelita clutched the wrinkled parchment with her tiny white fist and ran down the rickety wooden stairs. Her feet made loud thwomps with every step she took, echoed by the ear-piercing shrieks. Rolling it up, she opened the door to the parlor and placed it on the mini circular table set in the center of the room under an intricate paperweight. She then tidied up the plush chairs, lit up the fireplace, and left the room again for the kitchen.

The kitchen consisted of matching stoves and cabinets made of dark oak. She prepared the turtles for the turtle soup, not cringing the slightest bit as she ripped the flesh away from the thick shell. Her mind was too numb with the contradicting feelings battling against each other in their own battlefield.

She seasoned the water, dumped the turtles in, and put the lid on. She set the whole pot to a boil.

Aelita then prepared another pot of tea.

* * *

**2:09 a.m.**

Aelita wrung her hands as she sat silently on one of the plush chairs in the parlor. The red flames lit up her face in hues of orange as she stared numbly at the roll of parchment laying just a few feet ahead of her. She itched to just pick it up and let it get consumed in the light, let the flames eat away at it. She wanted to forget this whole thing, forget that she even _considered leaving her love.  
_

_Is she really going to do this?_

Her heart shrunk as she thought about Jeremie. How would he feel finding out that she left? Her mind has been replaying the few moments she had with Jeremie, the times where she didn't care that he was a soldier, that she loved him no matter what.

And immediately, her mind jolted to when she first met Jeremie, when she absolutely knew he was the one. She had been one of the nurses in one of the militia camps. Her eyes never locked onto anyone else but Jeremie, his deep blue eyes immediately catching her attention.

His warm smile caused her to smile back, even through all the blood and grime that caked his face.

_CHIME CHIME CHIME_

Aelita's mind got pulled back to the present.

Has it really been an hour already? She glanced at the grandfather clock.

Yes. Yes it has.

* * *

**3:04 a.m.**

Aelita stirred the pot of turtle soup. The aroma of it and the tea combined was heavenly, but it never fully comprehended inside her nostrils. Her mind was still conflicted. She ladled a few spoonfuls of the thick liquid into a white porcelain bowl and set it on a matching plate. She then poured a cup of tea and placed it on a matching saucer. She placed both plates onto a metallic tray, the smoke billowing heavily from it, and started her walk back to the parlor.

Aelita then dressed for the clear, chilly morning that was bound to meet her when she stepped foot outside her door. She took her time with this, since she still had a lot of time before Jeremie's expected arrival. The clothes were thick and heavy against her thin frame, impairing her ability to move a bit.

Aelita again sat herself into a chair in the parlor, wringing her hands.

* * *

**4:21 a.m.**

Aelita spent the next hour strolling through the parlor, fingering the portraits of her and Jeremie. She was surprised by how much dust her fingers collected, probably because of the lack of time the couple spent together. Her mind replayed all their moments, their good times, their bad times, and it just tore Aelita's heart apart.

Tears started to pour down her face. She didn't want to leave Jeremie. But she just felt like she needed to. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind, and ran for the front door.

* * *

**5:15**

Aelita's slim fingers wrapped around the handle of the cornhusk bag. She lifted it off the floor, hung it on her shoulder, and touched the knob.

Just then, all the regrets that would come later flooded the pinkette's mind.

She just..couldn't.

Her head aching, she bolted for the stairs and ran into the parlor, slamming the door shut behind her. She immediately started her work, clearing all the evidence of her temptation.

She threw the parchment in the fire.

As the flames fed off it, she almost placed her fingers back inside the hearth, nearly burning her fingers. But she was able to jerk away. She itched to reverse time, where the parchment was still there.

She emptied the turtle soup into the fire, burning it out. Falling to the floor on her knees, she cried bitterly in the dark. She heard a knock on the door, and the sobs increased.

_Jeremie..._

She almost left him.. How could she?!

Little did she know that it wasn't Jeremie. Who stood outside her door was a man she never met in a dark blue uniform, a solemn look on his face.

* * *

_And at 5:16, and you're not with me,_

_You can catch me in the next city._

_Never knew you meant that much to me..._

_Until 5:15_

_-Bridgit Mendler (2012)_

* * *

**Author's Note: How was that? Angsty, eh? Haha, I tried my best, guys! I really hoped you enjoyed this! :)**


	4. Under Lies the Secret Place

**Hey guys! I'm so so sorry for updating so late! I just haven't had any ideas lately. I hope you enjoy this!**

* * *

"Illusion is needed to disguise the emptiness within."

-Arthur Erickson

* * *

#4: Under Lies the Secret Place

Under that mask was something he never expected. Something that froze him in place. Her jet black hair resembled that of a raven's feather coat, shining bright under the dim light filtering from that single skylight. Her pale, unblemished skin was almost transparent, milky against those full, red lips.

He would've instantly fell in love with her if it weren't for the current circumstances.

Her piercing gaze penetrated his defenses; he was frozen to the core. Looking at her in his restraining arms, the fact that he was enthralled by her and she still hated him for being her enemy in this fight still didn't sink in.

They say that the eyes are windows to the soul.

They were slanted, a gorgeous shade of brown, and all he saw was hostility and hatred.

Unexpectedly, she firmly elbowed him in the stomach, forcing his arms away from the fibers of her black jumpsuit. As he staggered back, she spun around and swiftly removed his mask from his face, as if to get her revenge for him doing the same to her seconds before.

For once, she got a full look at his face. He had tanned skin, a contoured face, and shaggy brown hair. He was gorgeous, and she undoubtedly took notice of it. It only annoyed her even more. No one could tell what she was thinking as she cocked her head to the side.

She scrunched her eyebrows.

And with a mere flick to the wrist, she threw the bundle of spandex behind her, far from his reach.

As her adversary grunted in pain, she slowly sauntered towards her disposed mask, and slid it over her face. Walking over to him, she looked down, put her hands on her hips, and said in a threatening tone, "Don't you _dare_ pull that stunt on me again, do you hear me?"

He was still clenching his stomach, moaning cries of pain. He didn't know anyone else that could hit this hard.

The girl narrowed her eyes after seconds of no answer. She nudged his arm with the tip of her pointed boot. "Hey!" she demanded. "Do you hear me?"

He slowly moved his gaze to meet hers. "Wh-who are you? Aren't you-"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm Japanese."

He rose his eyebrows. "But I thought-"

"Yes, I know, we're supposed to be allies in this war," she completed for him, walking over to one of the numerous shelves to examine the gunpowder. "But we need the ammunition right now, so commander decided to have us grab it before you guys take any."

He got up, and restrained her once again by wrapping his arms around her. He whispered threateningly into her ear, "But _we're_ surrounded. The Germans need it more than the Japanese."

She shivered as his warm breath danced across her earlobe. Her face flushed under her mask, and she was left slightly aghast. Shaking her head to rid of the feeling, she spun out of his grasp and sent a roundhouse kick to his legs. As he fell again, she snarled, "We're surrounded as well, so shut up."

Just then, the lights turned on, catching the two spies red-handed. They froze in place, their eyes widened with surprise. The guy quickly got up, as the girl took fighting stance immediately.

Surrounding them was a handful of Italian soldiers.

The commander in chief, an eccentric man with blonde hair spiked up to a point, gave the pair a sickening smirk. He looked at them with vivacious, violet eyes. "My my, what do we have here?" he asked, shifting his gaze from one to the other, both of whom were holding glares at him. "A Japanese and German spy _daring_ to steal from Italy's arsenal? I feel so betrayed!"

The Italian commander-in-chief looked at the militants standing behind them, holding their artillery at the ready. "Get rid of them," he simply commanded.

As they obeyed his command and continued to close in on the two spies, the girl veered to face the guy she was fighting minutes ago. She said, "Hey, if we both want to get out of this, I suppose we begin working together."

The man didn't know what got over him, but he felt his heart surge. Turning his head to look at her, he gave her a smile. "Sure," he replied.

"Whoa, whoa, wait," she said. "Don't expect this to be some kind of friendly-"

He sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."

Right before the Italian soldiers were able to completely close in on them, the pair got out their grappling hook guns and pointed them towards the skylight. They pulled their triggers, and miraculously, they didn't get tangled with one another. They shot up in the air, and got caught in the frame.

When they were both high enough so that the Italians couldn't get to them, the girl pulled out a tiny device. She placed it on the cool glass, and it adhered to it and began to blink red. She gave the guy a tiny grin. "Wait for it..."

The blinks were at first sporadic. Then they began occurring rapidly. The glass shattered a few seconds later, sprinkling all over the arsenal's floor. The pair of spies covered themselves, then hopped out once it was all clear.

Outside, it was frigid and snowing. The wind was violent, though the spies were impervious to it. The girl's heels clacked against the roof as she walked across as his shoes made distinct clops. Once she hopped off the roof's surface, she ran off in a seemingly random direction.

He called out, "Hey, where're you going?!"

She paused her run, and looked back. "To the forest. I have shelter set up over there."

He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Oh, right..."

She sighed. "Look, the Italians are bound to catch us right now. I don't have time to talk to you. Do you...want to tag along?" She felt her face flush at the offer.

"Uh.. yeah, sure-"

"Then hurry."

* * *

The run seemed interminable. They entered a forest, and minutes later, they spotted a black tent. The girl unzipped the cover, and gestured for him to enter. He gave her a tentative nod, then went inside.

Inside the tent was nothing much, just a few cans of food and liquid, a pillow, and a blanket. He turned back towards the entrance and watched as the girl entered, zipping the cover behind her. She sat across from him, crossed legged, and stared at him intently. Awkward silence ensued. Eventually, she took off her mask, since he didn't have his on.

That reminded her that his mask was still at the arsenal.

He once again was mesmerized by her beauty. He wondered if she knew how pretty she was. She was so plain and simple, even elegant.

When she thought she couldn't take more of this, she broke the silence. She held out her hand. "My name's Yumi," she said. "Since it seems like you're going to stay until sunrise, I might as well introduce myself."

He shook it, taking notice of the flourish of warmth that came from her touch. "I-it's Ulrich," he stuttered, thrown off by her sudden approach.

She sighed once they pulled away. "Well, Ulrich, I'm going to sleep. You should get some rest too."

"R-right."

Yumi gave him a terse nod, then snuggled up against the pillow and covered herself with a blanket. She instantly closed her eyes. Ulrich watched as her delicate Asian features relaxed, her body steadily rising and falling from her stable breaths. She seemed so comfortable, so relaxed, almost as if she trusted him.

Or it was just the fact that she could easily kick his butt at any second's notice.

Taking that as the last thought, Ulrich laid on the bare floor close to Yumi and began to sleep.

This was their secret place.

* * *

The next morning, Ulrich woke up alone. Looking at the light that filtered through the thin fabric, he suddenly realized..

Yumi was just one of the hundreds of spies out there -last night was just a lucky encounter. They were both spies, and spies had to keep moving or risk their lives being done away with. Spies couldn't trust anyone, even their allies.

There was a slim to none chance of him ever seeing her again.

The wind blew at the emptiness that followed.

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, I hope you liked it! This was amazingly fun to write. ((:**


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